Soul of the Wolf
by InzanityFirez
Summary: Marcus and Caesar have formed an alliance with Pompey to become the most powerful trio in Rome, but the road to glory won't be an easy one. There are battles to be fought everywhere, from Rome all the way to Egypt and the mysterious Queen Cleopatra. But for Caesar, there is one more hurdle to deal with: being haunted by the ghost of his one-time rival, Tiberius Crassus.
1. Madness

**Alright! My first Spartacus fanfiction...and it's not going to have Spartacus...-_-" But, hopefully the story will make up for the lack of it's namesake character. I don't want to spend tedious amounts of time doing historical research, so this isn't going to be completely accurate, but look forward to such people as Marc Antony and Cleopatra showing up. If you don't know them...you will. : D This isn't going to be slash [unless there's an overwhelming demand for it?] More action, bromance, historical awesomeness, and so on. Enjoy!**

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_** Rome, 71 B.C. **_

The slamming of a door and clatter of an overturned goblet filled the room as Julius Caesar stormed in, followed by an exasperated Marcus Crassus. The younger male scowled as he poured himself a glass of wine and downed it quickly, before he faced Marcus over the table. "The Senate mocks us, all the while kissing a** of that fool Pompey! We are reported failures, while he glories in our victory over Spartacus!"

Marcus had heard this rant before, and it irked him every bit as much as it did Caesar if not more. He had _fought_ Spartacus, they had met blades and he had seen a fit rival in the warrior. Spartacus had been a slave, but he could hardly think of him that way. The man he fought that day was not the mad beast Rome hailed him as. Rather, he was a cunning, ruthless, and honorable leader who had admittedly bested him. Had his men not arrived, Spartacus would have seen him to the afterlife. Truly a pity Spartacus had not been a Roman, but if he had to be Thracian, had to be a slave, had to be leader of an upstart rebellion...then Marcus Crassus, who had lost everything in pursuit of him...should damned well have had credit for his fall. But being sullen over old wounds would not secure him a bright future, and so he had supported Pompey's claim of victory and enticed Caesar to do the same.

"Three months have passed since death of Spartacus. You have many times vouched for Pompey's claim. Do not cry for it now."

Caesar's expression darkened. "I did so only at your insistence! You assured me support of Pompey was wisest course, and yet I see no laurels laid upon me. We are made to be as fools, because Pompey placed heavy a** upon horse long enough to ride upon and steal our victory!"

"A horse he rode after great victory in Spain! Butcher he may be, but Pompey is not without merit. And even were he not, he is held in high position and much favored of the Senate. A triumvirate between Crassus, Caesar, and Pompey would be of much advantage to us all. Replace reckless words with silent understanding and careful praise, and see advantageous fruits born of it."

Caesar inhaled heavily before he _hmphed _and drank another glass of wine. "I will do as you suggest, _for now_, but if fruits spoken of do not soon begin to bud...I will take measures to plant my own seeds." he warned.

Marcus Crassus would certainly circumvent the attempts, but he would not encourage further argument and discord by saying so. "Patience, Julius." Caesar was too informal now that they were allies, but Gaius was reserved for closest friends and family, and Caesar seemed not to favor it anyway. "You, who made Spartacus defeat possible, who have stood by my side...I will not let you fade from history's memory. We shall achieve greatness together." The wealth of Crassus and the Julian name, thirded by stature of Pompey.

Caesar's lip curled. "Greatness with Pompey. Have it your way. We will speak again come morning." When Marcus inclined his head, the younger man took his leave.

Marcus watched after him a moment before he sighed. Caesar was undoubtedly brilliant in his own right, but he lacked patience and his cunning was blunted by his aggressive nature. Still, he would be useful, and Marcus had no doubt that he could deliver what he'd promised.

...

Caesar's return home was fraught with muttered curses and scowls, and even the sight of his beautiful wife could not shake his irritation. He went to the balcony and glared up at the sky as though it were to blame for his current situation. "Spartacus dead at our hands. And Pompey takes the glory of it. And what say Marcus? It goes as planned! Is he a fool or merely mad?" he demanded of no one, merely venting aloud.

_"-" _ A faint sound on the wind and a sudden chill on his neck caused Caesar to whirl around, and for the briefest moment, he saw a figure behind him. It held vague form, that of a man with an outstretched hand as if he'd grabbed at Caesar, but Caesar could make out no features and it was gone in an instant. His eyes widened and then he shook his head. The appartition had been a shadow, and the whisper and chill just the brush of the wind. A trick of the mind. "I am more tired than I thought." he muttered to himself as he rubbed his eyes. "To bed then."

He finally joined his wife in their bed, although she was already asleep and it was not long before he followed after.

_"...r...ser...__**Caesar**__!"_

Caesar awoke with a start as he heard his name shouted as though at a distant. The room was dim with only faint moonlight trickling in from behind the curtains. He squinted into the darkness at a hazy figure beside the bed. And then his heart clenched. There beside him, only briefly, the haze seemed to hold misshapen form, one that was unpleasantly familiar. "What-" But even as he spoke and his hand instictively moved towards the vision, it faded and disappeared.

He stared, stunned, until he felt his wife's hand slide up his side. "Gaius, what is it?" his wife murmured. "Lay back down, it's too cold without you."

Caesar glanced back at his wife, she had clearly not seen what he had. Had he even seen it at all? "Apologies, wife. I return at once." he finally swallowed hard and spoke before he lay back down beside her and pulled her into his arms. If he thought about it, the hollow voice had been familiar as well, as much as the face of the boy who'd once spoken with it. Caesar had surely been dreaming, although why of that, why _now_, he did not know.

But for just an instant, he'd have sworn it was Tiberius who stood before him.

Still, that was impossible. The boy was dead, and if it were a ghost which Caesar did not believe for a moment [that was nonsense, after all], why three months later come to haunt him? Why haunt him at all, and not his father, or his murderess? Although, she was dead too so that would be a bit difficult.

Caesar shook his head to clear it of such foolish thoughts, he had no time to spend pondering the workings of the dead. It was the living he was vested in and needed to focus on. He kissed his wife good night and settled back into bed to sleep, and to dream of victories rather than the casualties of the past.

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**Dun dun dun. Ghostly apparitions abound! I realize this wasn't the most exciting chapter in the history of chapters, but it's hopefully a good start. We're getting there. XD Reviews are like verbal hugs and inspire me to write! Just saying. XD Enjoy! -Witchy~ **


	2. A Day in the Life

**And...moving on. XD **  
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The clink of metal on wood was familiar and reassuring as Caesar took advantage of the morning sun to practice his swordsmanship. It wasn't even practice really, just a distraction from his restless night. He'd had nightmares, strange dreams of shadowy figures that shouted at him, stabbed at him over and over again. Caesar pushed the unsettling thoughts from his mind, focused on the target, envisioned that it was Pompey that stood before him...and promptly lopped off a fair chunk of the wooden target. He smiled grimly as he finally allowed himself to pause. Perhaps someday it really would be Pompey's head he took.

"My love, come inside and rest! I have not had my fill of your company!" Calpurnia, tempting in a loose and casual dress, pouted and beckoned him.

Caesar paused a moment before he grinned and sheathed his sword. "And I have not had my fill of you, my lady." he said, as he waggled his brows and made his way towards her. When he caught her, he gave a little growl at her throat as he kissed her and slid his hands down her sides. Her breath hitched excitedly as her hands slid up his slick chest and their lips met.

Several languid hours later, Caesar again returned to his balcony to overlook the city and think. He had told Marcus that they would speak again this day, but rest had served him well. He had needed a moment's peace more than he'd realized, and his wife's welcoming company besides. His daughter Julia was staying with her grandmother, and it afford plenty of opportunity to roam unimpeded in the household. Not that her presence would really have stopped him.

_"Disgusting..."_

Caesar whirled around to face the intruder he was certain was there, for he'd heard a whisper nearly clear as day. But when he looked, there was no one to be found. He had had rest, disturbed though it was, he'd taken pleasure with his wife and was well sated on food and wine. So why was he disturbed by visions in the day as well?

Why did the voice sound so damnably familiar?

His mood soured, Caesar revised his plans for the day. Rest and relaxation could wait, he would seek audience with Marcus Crassus after all.

...

Or so he'd thought.

"What do you mean, he cannot see me? What more pressing matters possess his time?" Caesar hissed at the slave who relayed the message.

The slave merely bowed and spoke nervously. "He attends to business, and asks that you return another day-"

"I am not a child to be turned away at the gate!"

"And yet, as always, you behave as one."

Caesar turned to face Marcus' wife, and he adopted a mirthless smile. "A pleasure as always, Lady Crassus."

"Whose?" she retorted, before she admitted. "Marcus is unwell this day, he's been fighting fever for days now. He made effort to stay risen this morning in anticipation of your arrival...and yet you never arrived. Do not lay blame on him for your tardiness."

Caesar stared hard at her a moment and gauged that she was being honest. Damn. "Unfortunate...it seems I must take my leave then. I will return when he is well."

It was then that Tiberius' younger brother Publius came running into the hall, and he stopped short as he saw Caesar. His lips curved into a troubled frown before he turned heel and ran the other direction.

Caesar lifted a brow. "Does my appearance call for such fright?"

Tertulla watched her son flee and then regarded Caesar tartly. "He knows who was present at his brother's murder. It was that b**** Kore who wielded dagger, but you failed to protect him. "

Caesar stared in disbelief before he scoffed. "You give me great credit. You must think me a seer, able to predict the actions of errant slaves and act accordingly. A slave who would not have acted, were she not forced to purpose by unwanted touch of poor master." He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, but his attention was drawn by the sudden slap to the face he received.

Tertulla glared and said with no small venom. "My son would not have had to force himself on that whore. She was always willing enough."

"With the man she loved. Not the boy she coddled to her breast." Caesar retorted, and this time when she attempted to strike him, he caught her by the wrist.

A sudden wave of cold, sharp pain slipped through his hand and he released her hand as if burned and took a step back. He stared, stunned, but from Tertulla's expression whatever had caused his pain was not inflicted on her.

And then he saw it, clearly behind Tertulla. A face twisted with anger and a sharp gaze directed right at Caesar, belonging to the one who had slapped his hand away. "Tiberius."

Tertulla's brow furrowed and she glanced behind her, following Caesar's gaze, but she saw nothing and turned back with a sneer. "Leave, Caesar. You are not welcome here this day." she fought to keep her composure against Caesar's apparent mockery of her grief.

Caesar swallowed hard, and watched as Tiberius' expression of anger became one of confusion before he flickered out completely. He gave a short nod of his head, shaken, and turned without a word to leave. Caesar fairly stumbled into the door on his way out. He had seen it, although the figure was nearly transparent, he had clearly seen Tiberius Crassus. And what's more, it was with gestures and actions that responded to the present, he had slapped Caesar's hand away. This was not a haunting memory, this was...this was..._impossible_. And yet it had happened.

He looked to his hand then, and stopped mid-step as he found that his hand was red as though he truly had been slapped. Surely he was not going mad. Was he? "Show yourself!" he called out suddenly. "Whatever trick you play...it ends now. Show yourself!" he hissed again as he whirled around. Let the apparition appear, mad or not, let him confront it and end it.

But no one appeared, no answer was given, and Caesar stood in silence a long moment.

Finally he took his leave. He would drink wine such as he had not in ages, until a stupor took him and carried him into restful slumber. Caesar did not like to drink so carelessly, but there was no choice, not when he seemed to be going mad...

...

Caesar hiccuped and wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he polished off another goblet of wine. He'd lost count of his cups and washed it down only with a few succulent grapes. And as he'd hoped, a sweet, numb oblivion had come over him. It was hard to succumb to madness when one was in such a state, after all. He wasn't one to become drunk easily, but with enough wine, any man could find their brief peace. Caesar settled back in his seat and inhaled heavily as he considered calling a slave girl to sate his...darker pleasures. Those that he would not have his beautiful wife dirty herself with.

"The great Caesar. Nothing more than a drunken slob." A voice said snarkily.

Caesar jerked and even drunkeness couldn't quell his survival instincts. He reached for the dagger on the table near him and aimed it forwards, before his eyes widened at the unfocused sight before him. "Ti..Tiberius." The name came out sluggish on his tongue and he shook his head as he narrowed his eyes on the figure before him. Even drink couldn't banish him, it seemed. He was worse than before.

The specter paused and then sneered as he took a few steps closer to glare down at Caesar. "_Yes_. Tiberius. So you can finally see me? You must have drunk well from your cups." he spat.

Caesar tried to clear his mind, but his head was spinning. This could not be real. "This must be a dream..." he muttered.

"_It is no f***ing dream_!" Tiberius snarled as he slammed his fist into Caesar's face, or rather, through it. Caesar felt fierce chill on his cheek and his eyes widened before he rose and took a slightly stumbling step backwards. He put the chair between himself and Tiberius, and held the dagger aloft. Tiberius' sneer intensified. "That dagger will do you no good. Have you forgotten already? I have already greeted death from blade. No thanks to you!"

_This...this cannot be real...I must focus...banish this dream from my mind...I am Gaius Julius Caesar...I am not mad...wake up! _ Caesar closed his eyes tightly and then opened them in expectation of waking from his dream, but he was greeted only by the sight of the disdainful Tiberius before him. "What are you?" he croaked.

Tiberius' sneer became a scowl. "I am _dead_. Take guess at what I am, what _you_ made of me."

"It...was Kore that killed you." Caesar said slowly. Lucidity did not wish to return to his mind, and he could not wake up. Was he awake then, or dreaming? Was he haunted, or mad?

"And you who failed to stop her!" Tiberius hissed.

Caesar stared at him and shook his head as he took a few more steps back. "This is madness. This is a dream. I will hear no more of this..." he muttered to himself as he rubbed his eyes.

Tiberius gave a scornful laugh. "This is no dream, and surely it is madness. But even so, I am truly here."

Caesar shook his head. "Why...what...do you want?"

"Do you think I _asked_ to be here? How should I know why the Gods choose to punish me so?"

"Then go be trapped elsewhere, I have no wish to deal with the likes of you." Caesar growled, a budding headache beginning. Despite what the specter claimed, he was certain that it was a dream. Because this simply could not be happening.

The look of fury that flashed on Tiberius' face seemed genuine enough though, and he got close as he made a motion of crushing Caesar's throat. "Would that I could." And whether he meant in being trapped elsewhere, or strangling Caesar was unclear. "Whenever I make attempt to leave, I appear beside you again. And you cannot see or hear me, not until now." he noted, although he did not know why it was different now.

"Why would...the Gods place you with me?"

"Perhaps you should ask them. Do all a favor and die, and then you shall have your chance." Tiberius replied.

Caesar stared at him another moment before he shook his head and stumbled to the bed behind him. "I will wake, and this madness will end. This dream will be over."

"Don't you dare sleep now! Get up, you bastard!" Tiberius seethed, he gazed down at Caesar with an expression rife with fury and hatred. He swiped at Caesar, but that was all he could do as the other settled in and went unaffected by Tiberius' swipe save for a shiver.

"Just need...sleep..." Caesar murmured as he allowed his eyes to close, certain that when he woke, this would all be an unpleasant dream. With that in mind, he surrendered himself to sleep.

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**I started this, and then had work the next day, and now I literally can't keep my eyes open. But, sleepy writing though it was...Caesar has officially seen Tiberius. Even though he's not quite sober enough to realize it. And Tiberius is quite ticked. XD And now it's time for my sleep too. XD Reviews are like verbal hugs and much appreciated. XD Enjoy~ Witchy~**


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